


I’ll be making room (for your big, big love)

by Doodsxd



Series: D&D Works [16]
Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game), Dungeons & Dragons - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dungeons & Dragons, Anger, Angst, BAMFs, Because I can, Casual Sex, Character Development, Denial of Feelings, Developing Friendships, Developing Relationship, Did I mention sexual tension, Dungeons & Dragons 5th Edition, Dungeons & Dragons Campaign, Dungeons & Dragons References, Eldritch Terror, Erotica, F/F, Fear of Death, Fights, Forests, Frenemies, Gay Sex, Hate to Love, Hot, Humor, Hurt, Idiots in Love, Implied Sexual Content, Inspired by Dungeons & Dragons, Jealousy, Just Add Ninjas, Love Confessions, Love/Hate, Manipulation, Manticore, Mind Reading, Miracles, Near Death Experiences, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Poisoning, Possessive Behavior, Resolved Sexual Tension, Sensuality, Sexual Tension, Shamaia needs a hug, Sickfic, Sneaky Character, Strong Female Characters, Teasing, Violence, Yasfa is a good friend, aggressive behavior, did i mention possessive behavior, helpful friends, just a cleric spell performed by a warlock, love to hate, mentions of past wounds, nosy people, not really a miracle
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-05
Updated: 2021-02-05
Packaged: 2021-03-16 13:55:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29208468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Doodsxd/pseuds/Doodsxd
Summary: The scream tore itself from her chest without her consent, and that could probably be heard by at leastsomeof the inhabitants of the building.Howdaredher? How dared Siegrun to go on a stupid hunt with that stupid, weak man who could not hold his own against a fucking manticore? How dared her be reckless enough to get taken down by one, with no means to heal herself, on that account? Because none of those ridiculous Yamamotos seemed to have any idea of what to do, the incompetents, and now-… now she was dying.
Relationships: Siegrun Valahar/Shamaia
Series: D&D Works [16]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2069412
Kudos: 1





	I’ll be making room (for your big, big love)

**Author's Note:**

> title from 'big love' by karmina.  
> hope yall enjoy it :)

**I’ll be making room (for your big, big love)**

Shamaia woke up early and struggled to extricate herself from the tangle of limbs around her. She always woke up earlier than Siegrun, despite knowing that the woman was not worn out by their night at all, with the resilience of her constitution. No, Shamaia woke up early because sleeping was a vulnerability, especially close to someone else, so falling asleep beside anyone always left her feeling unsettled. 

Not only falling asleep, but being _near_ people was still somewhat strange to her - it felt a little like she spent her whole life sitting on thorns when she was around them. Nobody cared, nobody inspired care, nobody understood, and she did not understand them back. It was annoying, uncomfortable and unnecessarily complicated, usually - except for this. Of all the things Siegrun was, _complicated_ was not one of them. She liked to kill things, she liked to drink, she liked to fuck. All very basic and understandable. She was nothing but honest and straightforward, which was… a comfort, if nothing else. 

Shamaia’s eyes were inevitably caught by the valkyrie’s face. It was strange, to say the least, to lay this close to anyone, let alone someone who trusted her enough to actually _sleep_ beside Shamaia. Siegrun’s face looked somewhat peaceful, lines softened by the deep relaxation of her slumber. 

Shamaia felt the urge to trace them - there were still bruises from sparring with Yasfa on her face, plus a myriad of small scars peppered across the expanse of Siegrun’s skin. She was one tough woman, that not even Shamaia could deny. The scar she left by Shadowbright had a prized spot on her shoulder, a permanent mark left on her by Shamaia herself. 

“You creeping on me, hellgirl?” Siegrun’s voice snapped Shamaia from her thoughts, a lopsided smirk betraying her attempt to look asleep. 

Shamaia just pushed herself to the side, laying on her back, eyes on the ceiling. “Shut up, you slob. You were drooling.” 

With an unconcerned chuckle, Siegrun brushed her hand around her lips to clean up the inexistent saliva. “You going?” 

“Yeah.” She answered, voice carefully neutral. “In a minute.” 

Siegrun just grunted as she pushed herself upright, stretching her back and pulling her long red hair behind her back, away from her face. Shamaia would never admit to thinking it, but Siegrun like this was a fucking sight to see, all naked, oblivious glory. Almost made her push the woman back on the bed and start it all over again. She was strong like nothing Shamaia had ever seen, able to take a huge hit from her sword - which was imbued with godly powers - and keep standing. Resilient, that one was, both in body and spirit. Shamaia could, at least, give that the appropriate respect. 

The valkyrie dressed slowly, eyes avoiding Shamaia’s figure sprawled on her bed like she owned it. It was one of her power moves, to act like Siegrun’s room in the guild like it was hers to do as she pleased, at least when they were there together. It was childish, maybe, but it made Shamaia feel better about this whole thing that they did once in a while, fighting and fucking until all of her ice became molting lava inside of her, completely out of her carefully constructed control. Annoying as it was, it was also too satisfying to stop. 

“Don’t take too long here, or I’ll think you’re stealing my things and you’ll taste my fist again, got it?” The redhead warned while lacing her boots

Shamaia laughed. “Like I’d want to steal any of this stinking junk, you brute.” 

“Take the warning, hellgirl.” 

The door shut with a soft click, leaving Shamaia alone. 

She turned on the bed, laying on her stomach, Siegrun’s smell soaking everything around her. 

The tiefling shut her eyes again and drifted back to sleep, listening as the morning birds chirped their messy chorus. 

______________________________________________________________________________

That trip felt like it took _forever_ , but it was probably just because of that fucking genasi being an annoyance throughout the whole. Fucking. Time. Shamaia had been fit to burst when she entered the guild. All she wanted was a warm bath and some beer, so she made a beeline to the bar as soon as her feet hit the guild’s floor. 

“Will she make it?” Rodrik’s voice coming from near Abigail’s office. 

Shamaia could hear sniffles, so she turned her head. _Jin_. 

What the fuck was going on?

“I can’t say.” Abigail answered with her customary placid expression. “She was badly hurt, and the wound contained a lot of venom. I did what I could, but it is up to her now.” 

Rodrik translated it to Jin, who started sobbing, hugging his brother like he could not quite hold himself upright on his own. 

_“_ _Watashi wa monsutā ga kuru no o mimasendeshita... Sora o kayotte, jīkurun. Sore wa subete watashi no seidesu.”_ The man spoke in that language that she could not understand. Didn’t mean she couldn’t _feel_ the words, though. 

Shamaia strode there, feeling a little curious, a little morbid. “Hey, whatsyourface.” 

“Don’t, devil woman. Not now.” Rodrik reprimanded her, which was unusual, to say the least. He held his brother close, protective. 

“I just wanna know who’s on their last leg.” She asked, watching them. 

“Why do you care-” 

“It’s miss Valahar.” Abigail answered as Shamaia felt _something_ brushing her mind. 

“What happened?” Shamaia tried to keep her posture the same, but could feel some of her muscles tensing in response to that piece of information. 

“We went to hunt chimeras, but found manticores.” Rodrik answered, voice grave. “Siegrun was bitten, and then stung. We tried our best, but...” 

“She lost a lot of blood, and the little that remains within her is poisoned.” Abigail completed his statement. “I am not sure, at this time, that she will pull through. Her state is quickly degenerating. Only a miracle could help her right now.” 

Shamaia could feel her aura escaping her grasp and held tightly onto it. 

“Heh. Warn me if there’s a funeral so I can go spit on her casket.” She told them with a small smirk and turned, walking away from them. 

The world spun. She forgot her beer, her companions, and her room, ending up in front of Siegrun’s door. But of course, the door wasn’t open. She was not there. 

Maybe she wouldn’t be again. 

Disappointment clawed at Shamaia’s heart as she banged her own door shut, allowing herself just that because nobody was there to hear her. 

The scream tore itself from her chest without her consent, and _that_ could probably be heard by at least _some_ of the inhabitants of the building. 

How _dared_ her? How dared Siegrun to go on a stupid hunt with that stupid, weak man who could not hold his own against a fucking _manticore_ ? How _dared_ her be reckless enough to get taken down by one, with no means to heal herself, on that account? Because none of those ridiculous Yamamotos seemed to have _any_ idea of what to do, the incompetents, and now-

… now she was dying. 

Shamaia’s mind went to that morning a few days earlier. Siegrun had looked so... peaceful, sleeping beside Shamaia, waking up with that stupid smirk on her face, getting dressed like it was just another morning. And between them, it was. Outside, while calling each other names and being rude, they always gravitated towards each other, exchanging jabs as if to know that the other was still there, that they were still on. That the fragile connection had not faded or been cut off by any of them. The reassurance felt like warmth, no matter how much Shamaia played it down to herself. 

Her hands found the things on her table, anger boiling in her chest as she threw her ink pot and notebooks all over the floor to try to _extinguish_ that fire inside of her. She was a being of ice and coolness, frost and distance, but Siegrun always did that to her, made her warm from the inside out, searing everything in her path. While she wasn’t sure that she _liked_ it, Shaiama _knew_ she didn’t want out, not so soon. 

A fucking _manticore._ By all the hells. She felt like punching Siegrun in the face. 

“I came as soon as I heard.” The sound of another person’s voice snapped her out of her trance-like state of anger, making ice pool inside her belly. Did she see it? Of course she did, there was ink all over the goddamned floor. 

“Get out.” 

“No.” Yasfa walked inside with that stupid sympathetic face. “Come on. I cleared the way, there’s nobody there. You can visit her.” 

“What’s the _point_ ?” She spat, forcing her customary indifference out, which felt _wrong_ with all that energy boiling inside of her. Her skin felt too tight around her. “She’s gonna die. I’m not even surprised. She’s an idiot.” 

“Shamaia.” The genasi’s voice became stern. “Go there. Yell at her, slap her face, I don’t care. Just _face_ this.” She held Shamaia’s wrists, despite her previous warnings not to _touch_ her. She would get frostbite on that stony skin of hers in seconds, and, apparently, she was another idiot, because she didn’t seem to give a fuck. “Siegrun is dying.” She kept on holding, fingers turning a sickening shade of grey. “She is dying.”

The tiefling’s arms stopped fighting, fire doused with water by the declaration. “Yeah. I don’t care. Like I said, we just fucked. I knew she’d die in a stupid way at some point.” 

“Then go tell her that.” Yasfa insisted. 

“Why are you so adamant that I go watch an injured person die?” The grip had to be damaging Yasfa’s skin with the cold. “Is this some sick fantasy of yours? One of your weird _emotional_ things?” 

Yasfa’s face bled into a sad smile as she let go of Shamaia’s wrists, rubbing her hands discreetly. It looked like they were burned. There was a story there, she knew, but there was no point in asking. “Sometimes, when you don’t see it, it takes much longer for the truth to sink in, and that hurts much worse.” 

“Why don’t you _hear_ _me_?” Shamaia snapped her fingers in front of Yasfa’s face as if to snap her into gear. “ I don’t _care_ about Siegrun.” 

“Come on.” Once again the woman ignored her crystal clear declaration. “Let’s go. I’ll guard the door.” 

She hesitated; could not avoid it. That _idiot._ That fucking- “Guard the whole hallway.” She said after half a minute of pondering, going in front of Yasfa to have a sense of leading instead of being led by that ridiculous soft-hearted woman. She would _not_. Ever. 

Shamaia strode through the hallways, but the usual delight she felt from people casting their eyes down or making way for her was absent. It was too easy to keep dominance over weaklings. Exciting was to figure out just how strongly she needed to bite Siegrun’s lower lip to get her to make that noise that sounded like a dying cat-

 _Fuck_. No. 

Finally, they were there, the green woman with a knowing smile on her face. “Want to leave Shadowbright with me for safeguard?” 

“Where I go, it goes.” Shamaia decided, staring at the door. Trying not to think of what was beyond it. 

“I’ll be right here when you come out.” 

“Screw you.” Shamaia answered and opened the door, walking in. 

The room was… quiet. Eerily quiet for a room that housed _Siegrun_. 

A few steps in and she saw her, lying on a bed. Her eyes were closed, hair matted, skin ashen. Siegrun looked half dead already, a couple of empty vials of medicine on the nightstand beside her bed, torso wrapped with thick bandages. 

Shamaia’s hands opened and shut as she tried to decide what to do. Siegrun was asleep, at least. 

Then it hit her. Asleep and _dying_.

“You absolute idiot, Valahar.” The tiefling’s voice sounded a little weird in her own ears. Still, she kept going. “Fuck you. Fuck you, dying like this after surviving my sword. Is that your stupid way of trying to prove that I’m not as strong as I look? Were you trying to undermine my power, is that it?” 

It felt stupid, talking to the walls and to an asleep person like this. Maybe Siegrun was in a coma, even. But maybe because of it, it also felt cathartic. It didn’t _matter_ what she said. She could speak her mind, let it all out. The anger, the things that did not make sense, the things that she loathed and hated, like-

“You know what, you _deserve_ to die, being stupid to go on a ridiculous _courting_ hunt with that twig. Sure, he knows how to use a sword, but _who doesn’t?_ It’s not like he’s special. He’s ridiculous, but you’re _pathetic_ for trusting him to have your back. What the fuck, Siegrun.” 

-the more she talked, the more she felt that unsettled energy bounce inside of her. But there was no one around to hear her. Yasfa wouldn’t _dare,_ and Siegrun was _-_

“You were the only one who could match me, and then you decide to be killed by a ridiculous animal that you only went after to give that eastern twink an opportunity to fuck you. Did you need dick so bad, is that it? Because I’m quite sure I didn’t need a fucking _dick_ to make you cum, you absurd _barbarian_ -” 

_-dying_ . Siegrun was dying. Right in front of her. And she couldn’t do anything. She was a being of ice and coolness, frost and distance, _damnit_ , but this is what Siegrun always did to her, made her warm from the inside out, hot enough to sear everything in her path. And now she took it all away, like it was nothing, like it was hers to _take-_

“This was _not_ your decision to make. You were supposed to _live_ , to be _here_ and to _fight_ me. _I_ am the only one who’s a match for your strength here, everyone else is just ants, and you had _no right_ to go be reckless around a dumb animal and to be killed in such a laughable way, Valahar. I hope Valhalla doesn’t open for you. I hope your spirits stays here, forever wishing for peace and never getting it, because you were too stupid to wait to die in a dignified way-” 

_-it was_ not _her decision_ . It wasn’t. They both ended up there for a fucking reason, Shamaia found that stupid reward poster for a _reason_ -

“You’re _mine_ to kill, Siegrun. I’m the only one with a right to kill you, and you go down a forest and let a manticore sting you just to spite me. That’s just the type of thing you’d do to spite me, you beastly, hateful thing!” 

The slap across the valkyrie's face sounded too loud in the silent room. Shamaia noticed distantly that her hands were shaking. She wanted to speak more, but her throat felt clogged, completely shut down. 

Siegrun looked dead. No reaction to the smack, no blood on her cheeks. Just faint breathing, greyish skin and a gash across her side. 

“ _Fuck_ .” She would not analyse this. She would not think about why her head was spinning, or why her breath was shortening, or why her eyes felt damned wet. She was not crying. She would _not cry_. 

Five minutes, ten seconds, an eternity or a moment passed in which she used everything she had to get her breath back into control. That was when Shadowbright started to vibrate on her back, requesting her attention. 

Shamaia grabbed it, confused. Yes, Shadowbright communicated with her, but usually it had to do with its own care and hunger for blood. A thought crossed her mind, leaving her faintly shocked. Did the sword want her to-?

“ _Grrr_.” It vibrated in that characteristic way it did when the answer was a negative. 

Something brushed Shamaia’s head, a _voice_. It was unlike Abigail’s, so probably not her. But who-?

 _Just this once._ The voice said, rattling inside her bones, moving Shamaia’s soul to make room for _something_. 

_Just this once._

Shadowbright vibrated, guiding itself towards Siegrun. Horrified, she tried to stop it, but it pulled her hand forward anyway. Strangely, it did not touch the valkyrie’s body, instead just guiding Shamaia’s hand over Siegrun’s knee. 

Something was _sucked_ from inside Shamaia. She felt it like a part of her life force left her body, attracted to the point of contact between her and Siegrun, leaving her bare and tender, like she had a bad sunburn all over her cold body. 

Shamaia left out a sound and her body bent forward. She fell to her knees, torso dropping over Siegrun’s motionless body. 

The last thing she saw before passing out was the door of the infirmary opening and Yasfa’s concerned face rushing to her side, calling for someone to help, calling for-

_______________________________________________________________________________

She woke up suddenly, eyes wide open. 

It was night, and Shamaia was laying down on a bed. One quick scan and she confirmed that this was Abigail’s infirmary. 

The events from before came to her mind in a rush. Shamaia jumps to a standing position, looking around. 

In front of her, another bed with Yasfa half-propped over it, bandages around her burned hands. And to her left side, Siegrun sat with her back leaning on the headboard, watching her. 

“What?” Shamaia asked, gathering herself into nonchalance again, mask snapping forcibly into place. 

“I didn’t say anything, hellgirl.” Siegrun’s voice sounded raspy from the lack of use, or maybe damage. Shamaia couldn’t be sure without asking, and she would _not_ ask. 

She felt especially awkward with Siegrun’s eyes on her like that. Shamaia could only avoid squirming through sheer steely habit. 

“Are you creeping on me, brute?” She threw the memory back, unable to resist.

“Just wondering why you healed me using your own life.” 

That… hit like a punch to the gut. 

“I don’t know what you mean.” 

“Fuck that.” Siegrun moved on the bed, placing her feet on the ground. “The weird magic halfling told me what you did. You shared life force with me, went into shock and fell over on top of me, and I wanna know why.” 

_Damn_ those nosy guild people. “Just be thankful and move on, for hell’s sake. Has no one taught you basic decency in that valkyrie heaven of yours? Or do you all just grunt at each other, fight and eat raw meat all day?” She rolled her eyes, trying to divert the topic because... there was nothing to say. She didn’t know why, she just did it. 

“Shamaia.” That made her eyes snap automatically to Siegrun’s face. She had _never_ spoken her name, no matter what words were exchanged between them. It was always _ugly thing_ or _hellgirl_ or some insulting variation. 

Siegrun looked serious, which was also new. 

Silence stretched between them. Yasfa slept through their conversation - if that could be called a conversation - but the woman’s words bounced inside her head. _He was wrong. You’re not cold-hearted._ But she _was_. Shamaia was a being of ice and coolness, frost and distance, but Siegrun always did that to her, made her warm from the inside out, searing everything in her path.

Including death, apparently. 

“Your life is mine to take.” She revealed. Words that could not be unsaid, spoken in the dark. “I couldn’t let a fucking _manticore_ take you, not after you survived Shadowbright.” She kept her eyes forward, avoiding Siegrun’s face. “If someone’s going to take your life, that’s gonna be me, you stupid oaf.” 

Siegrun hummed, unbothered by her insults. She took her sweet time considering Shamaia’s words, leaving her to get tenser as the moments followed, one after the other, colored with uncertainty· 

She felt, rather than saw, the familiar shape of Siegrun’s body sit next to hers on the single bed. “Move over.” 

“What?” Shamaia didn’t fight Siegrun’s shove, but she kept a frown on the whole time on principle. “What do you think you’re doing?” 

“Sleeping.” She answered like it was obvious. 

“This bed is too small for both of us.” She pointed out. “You got your own bed. Go back there.” 

“Shut up.” Was the valkyrie's answer, pulling Shamaia to her with steel arms and keeping her there. The space was small, but they managed. It wasn’t much different than sharing a bed upstairs, Shamaia noticed. Despite the beds inside the rooms being much bigger than those singles in the infirmary, she and Siegrun always gravitated towards each other during the night, making it hard for her to remove herself from Siegrun’s grip once she woke up - earlier, always earlier. Sleeping this close to the redhead was nothing new to her body, which did not take long to relax. 

After a few moments of silence, Shamaia tried again. “What are you doing, Valahar?” 

“I’m being fucking grateful, it’s what I’m doing.” She grunted back. “You asked for basic decency, didn’t ya? This is it.” 

“That’s _not_ what I asked for, and when did you start listening to me anyway?” She tried to push Siegrun away, to no avail. The woman was _strong_ and was apparently not into falling off of the bed. “What about Yasfa?” She looked at the sleeping woman on the bed in front of theirs, still blissful unaware of what was happening around her. 

“You were the one who rattled your mouth to her.” Siegrun snorted, smirking smugly. “Apparently I’m good in bed, innit?” 

Shamaia rolled her eyes. “I only told her that to punish her for teasing me. It was a _lie_ , Siegrun.” Yasfa was dead meat, that was for sure. 

“Sure it was.” The woman laughed. “Go to sleep, hellgirl.” Her hand slapped Shamaia’s ass, to her absolute outrage. 

Shadowbright hummed uncharacteristically gently beside Shamaia, taking her attention off of Siegrun, who was already starting to snore, the animal. Almost like a warning, although a kind one. _Just this once_. 

And Shamaia was no idiot. She knew that it meant for her to be thankful and move on. It was just basic decency, after all. 

She sighed and shut her eyes, acutely aware of every place in which her body was pressed against Siegrun’s, who felt warm, and solid, and _alive_ beside her. 

Shamaia fell asleep like that, unaware of the grin blooming on the face of the genasi _supposedly_ asleep on the bed across from theirs. 

_____________________________________________________________________________

“I’m back, bitches! Your turn-Yasfa-into-a-frog thing doesn’t last forever, you see, and now I’m-” The genasi stopped suddenly as she opened the door to Shamaia’s room with the intention of annoying the tiefling some more, after spending the last _hour_ croaking and eating flies as she turned into a frog by Shamaia’s power. 

The scene inside the room brought warmth to her chest. Siegrun and Shamaia slept together in a tangle of limbs, both naked, only covered by sheets which presented very characteristic wrinkles on them, telling the story of the, _ahem_ , activities that led both women to decide to take a nap in the middle of the afternoon. 

Yasfa smiled and made her way silently outside of the room, clicking the door shut. 

“Is she gone?” Siegrun’s voice rumbled from her chest, underneath Shamaia’s ear. 

The tiefling sighed. “I think so.” 

“Hmph.” She answered, showcasing a baffling display of post-sleep coherence and eloquence. 

But Shamaia was awake, now. Her eyes were inevitably caught by the valkyrie’s face. It was _still_ strange, even after all this time, to lay this close to anyone, let alone someone who trusted her enough to actually _sleep_ beside Shamaia. Siegrun’s face looked somewhat peaceful, lines softened by the deep relaxation of her post-sex slumber. 

Shamaia felt the urge to trace them - there were now a few healing marks on her face from the manticore encounter, plus the myriad of small scars that peppered across the expanse of Siegrun’s skin. She was one tough woman, and Shamaia would never let herself forget that. The scar she left by Shadowbright had a prized spot on her shoulder, a permanent mark left on her by Shamaia herself. 

“You creeping on me, hellgirl?” Siegrun’s voice snapped Shamaia from her thoughts, a lopsided smirk betraying her attempt to look asleep. 

Shamaia just pushed herself to the side, laying on her back, eyes on the ceiling. “Shut up, you slob. You were drooling.” 

Siegrun laughed and pulled Shamaia closer again, nose buried in the tiefling’s hair, breathing her in. Shamaia saw no reason to try to struggle against the arms around her. It was of no use, anyways. Shamaia saved Siegrun’s life because it was hers to take, and Siegrun seemed to agree with that statement, these days. At this point, it wasn’t like she could get rid of the valkyrie anymore. Even _she_ said so, something on the lines of _you saved my life, now I’m your problem. Deal with it, hellgirl._ And she was not about to kill the woman after all that effort to save her. Even Shadowbright wouldn’t kill her after that, so all she could do was put up with it. “I’m hungry. You going?” 

“Yeah.” She answered, voice scratchy from sleep. “In a minute.” 

Siegrun just grunted as she pushed herself upright, stretching her back and pulling her long red hair behind her back, away from her face. Shamaia did not bother to hide the lines that her eyes traced over Siegrun’s body, admiring it. It drove the barbarian insane - sometimes pushing her into giving up on leaving the bed, just growling and moving over Shamaia to start it all over again - which was always fun. Siegrun was strong like nothing Shamaia had ever seen, able to take a huge hit from her sword - which was imbued with godly powers, mind you, - and keep standing, but these days, one good look from Shamaia and a wildfire started in Siegrun’s eyes.

It felt humbling. It felt like a power rush she had never felt before. 

The valkyrie dressed slowly, sneaking looks to the figure sprawled on the bed; bed where they fought and fucked until all of Shamaia’s ice became molten lava, melting both her and Siegrun together. It was just too satisfying to stop. 

“Don’t take too long here, or I’ll think you're cheating on me and you’ll taste my fist again, got it?” The redhead warned while lacing her boots.

Shamaia smiled, very satisfied with herself as she drew both legs towards her torso slowly, knees together, feet pointed - mostly because Siegrun stopped, eyes following her every move with the careful look of a predator being teased by its next meal. 

“If you don’t want me cheating,” Shamaia let one leg fall down to the side, and then the other, spreading herself for Siegrun to see. “-you should keep me satisfied, don’t you think?” 

The growl came as expected. “I’m warning you, hellgirl.” 

“What?” Shamaia asked, fake innocence written all over her. “I thought you said you were hungry.” 

The door shut with a soft click, key turned on its chamber, separating them both from the rest of the world. 

Afterwards, once Siegrun left to tend to _another_ type of hunger, Shamaia turned on the bed, laying on her stomach, Siegrun’s smell soaking everything around her. 

The tiefling shut her eyes again and drifted back to sleep, listening as the afternoon birds chirped their messy chorus. 

  
  
  



End file.
